After hearing the purile locker room humour of Alpha Kappa Omega, we switch focus and are greeted by 'Handsome' Henry Kelly, dressed to the nines as always.  He holds a microphone in a bedazzled hand and announces:

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the Logging Crew.

The camera pans wide as the Logging Crew move into frame, still in their mackinaws and covered with a fine layer of sawdust. Cletus leads, his axe at the ready by his side, while Big Jim trails, the pulp hook on his shoulder

Gentlemen, you heard the remarks by your opponents just seconds ago, what do you have to say about it?

Beat us senseless eh?  That sounds like a goddamn lie to me Henry.  

Yessir, these lads couldn't win a fight with their own pants, menin' they even got trouble beatin' themselves.

Jim makes an appropriately obscene gesture.

What about rumours that this is the last we'll see of you two for a little while?

Sorry to say Hank, but them rumours are true.  The tag scene has got to hell hereabouts and we're headed down that old logging road again.

Now they say it's the right thing to do, go out on your back, but don't count on the Crew doing that tonight.  The way we figure it, we ain't got nothing to lose.

So, Jimmy and I are gonna fight this our way, no quarter and no mercy.

So you can bring the Spirit Squad down to the ring, we already made Sid squeal like a hairy pig, and some things are worth doing twice.

See, you boys are all warmed up, fulla piss and vinegar.  For the Crew though, there's a warmth, but it's a dark kind of warmth, like something that shouldn't feel as good as it does, a misery that longs for company.

And what'll fill us is watching another man in agony.

It's a small warmth and petty fullness....

But damned if it isn't better than nothing, and a helluva way to close things out.

It's time to head back to the only thing that ever loved us back, those old lonesome pines.

Back to you guys on the arena floor.